Normal is boring
by Teatime87
Summary: I have a list of situations, a list of Sherlock series characters, mix them all up with a random generator and the result is some funny oneshots that otherwise probably never would have been written.


**List of names:**

 **1\. Irene Adler**  
 **2\. Mrs. Hudson**  
 **3\. Jim Moriarty**  
 **4\. Molly Hooper**  
 **5\. John Watson**  
 **6\. Greg Lestrade**  
 **7\. Sherlock Holmes**  
 **8\. Mycroft Holmes**

 **Situation 1:**

 **8, 3, 1 and 7 go camping in the Highlands. 8 und 1 make a bonfire and 3 and 7 have to share a sleeping bag, because 7 forgot his.**

 **PS: I had to change the circumstances with the sleeping bag a bit. Sherlock didn't forget his, but the sleeping bag wasn't there because of other reasons.**

Leaves and twigs crack beneath his feet as Sherlock turns from one of the main paths further into the thicket. The trees stand closer to each other here, which made the place much darker, the treetops letting through only very little sunlight. That all was really strange. Anyway, the problem his client told him about yesterday in his e-mail sounded very interesting. Eventually a case that was special. And now he is about to meet this very same client here in the foresaken woods of the Scottish Highlands. Unfortunately John weren't being able to join Sherlock, because he already had other plans. Something with his girlfrind, Amy. ... No, Amelie? ... No. Whatever, Sherlock has more important things to focus on now.  
He arrives at a glade and stops for a moment. If he isn't mistaken, this is the place where his client wanted to meet him. He looks around and spots a box made of wood, that already is very weathered and mosscovered. Surely it belongs to one of the foresters who stores his appliances in this box. Sherlock checks his watch. His client is late. Not very pleasant.

Suddenly twigs crack behind him. He turns around and spots the slender figur of a woman. He stares at her in utter suprise for a moment. "Miss Adler?"  
The woman smiles widely when she sees him. "Sherlock Holmes", she grins and Sherlock looks at her completely irritated.  
Irene chuckles. "A sight for the gods!"  
Sherlock notices that his mouth hangs open and he closes it quickly and clears his throat. "What are you doing here?" He asks rather bluntly as his gaze wonders down the graceful person in front of him.  
"I should meet someone here who's got information that are very important for me." The grin on her face widens. "I didn't think you would be that person though. Why this strage meeting place? I would have loved to visit you at home." Her voice was provoking and seducing, but Sherlock is able to ignore that.  
"Obviously we both have been fooled. I should meet a client here. I think I don't need to mention that I don't think you are my client."  
Suddenly both of them hear a noise. The noise of an engine that doesn't come from the road but seems to be above them. They both lift up their heads while the noise is getting louder and louder and then they see a helicopter that sinks down slowly onto the glade, swirling up leafs, twigs and air. Sherlock and Irene step back, turn around and cover their faces with their arms.  
Finally the helicopter touches the ground but the rotor blades go on rotating. At the side of the vehicle a door opens and someone jumps out. The helicopter rises and that's when Sherlock and Irene turn around . In front of them stands Jim Moriarty. Westwood suit, shiny shoes and sun glasses.  
Now Sherlock is completely confused.  
Jim nods at Irene and greets her with a simple "Miss Adler" before he takes a step toward Sherlock and exposes a perfect row of teeth as he grins at him. "And Mr Holmes."  
"Is it due to you that we're here?" Sherlock asks and watches Jim carefully.  
"No, of course not." He replies and looks around with a contemptuous look on his face. "When I invite you I would like to be able to offer you a seat." He looks back up at him again and grins.  
"I see", Sherlock mumbles before they can hear the noise of a car coming near them. Sherlock pushes himself past Jim Moriarty and steps in the middle of the glade. "It can't get no worse", he mumbles to himself as he looks over at Jim Moriarty who is talking to Irene. Then there is the crack of twigs again, a rustling of leafs and a voice that mumbles "unconventional" and "impossible". Sherlock's eyes widen and he turns around and really sees his brother approaching the small group. Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Oh yes it can get even worse", he moans and looks at his older brother, who seems to be rather confused.  
"Sherlock?" Mycroft says surprised and steps up to his brother before he spots the other two. They both join the Holmes brothers.  
"How pleasing" Jim grins as he looks at Sherlock and Mycroft. "The Iceman and the Virgin. That's going to be fun."  
Sherlock rolls his eyes while Mycroft tries desperately to hide his confusion. "Well I don't know what you all are doing here but I won't let you spoil my holiday."  
"What holiday Mr Holmes?", Irene asks.  
"My assistant planned a little holiday over the weekend for me. My doctor recommended it to me. Too much stress the past few weeks." He sighs. "My assistant told me that there is a small but nice hotel here in the Scottish Highlands, calm and quiet. She booked a room for me. My driver will discharge my luggage any moment and-"  
Before he even finished the sentence there is the noise of a car that drives away. For a moment all four of them look at each other with big eyes. Sherlock is the first who is able to move and runs. He runs as fast as he can to the main path but only sees the back lights of the black Jaguar that disappears in a dustcloud around a corner.  
Irene followed Sherlock and stops right next to him. "Oh well, that wasn't much of a hit", she says way too serene for Sherlock's liking. Then he spots a small white envelope in the grass. He picks it up and looks inside.

When they walk back to Mycroft and Jim Moriarty they both just stand next to each other. Mycroft looks pointedly in the other direction while Jim wipes imaginary lints off his suit.  
"Great driver of yours, Mycroft!", Sherlock hisses.  
He just raises his eyebrow. "How should I have known that he's privy to this...charade." He spits.  
"We just saw the back lights", Irene says while Jim only grins widely at everybody around.  
"Instead the driver left something for us." Sherlock says holds up the envelope and pulls out a small key.  
"A key? What's that for?" Irene asks.  
Sherlock turns around and walks to the wooden box he noticed when he arrived here. The others follow him. He takes hold of the rusty lock and puts the key in it. It fits. There's a quiet click noise and the lock snaps open. Carefully Sherlock lifts the lid and takes out the things that are in the box. "Tents... Sleeping bags...tins..."  
All four of them look at each other cluelessly.  
"What's all that about?" Irene asks confused.  
"Oh, there's a letter." Sherlock picks up the folded piece of paper and starts to read out loud.

 _April fools!_

 _Oh how much I'd love to see your faces now!_

 _Tomorrow morning the black Jaguar will pick you up again._

 _In the box you'll find everything you need. Well almost everything._

 _Have fun!_

 _John_

 _PS: Greeting from Greg!_

Slowly Sherlock lets the letter sink and all four of them look at each other dumbfounded.  
"Well I won't stay here for another second!" Mycroft announces and takes his mobile phone out of his coat pocket triumphatically.  
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Forget that, Mycroft. We're at the probably most abandoned place on earth, you'll have no reception!"  
The older Holmes falters but looks on his phone secretely, just to verify if his brother is right or not.  
Jim Moriarty turns away and snorts resigned. "Oh Mr Sherlock Holmes, you're in trouble now."  
Sherlock narrows his eyes. "Why me?"  
Jim approaches him, invading his personal space as he looks at him threatingly. "You have to keep an eye on your little pet, he only gets up to nonsense when you're so distracted. Do you even realise what assignments I dropped just to fix the deal someone wanted to offer me here?"  
"Oh, let me guess. I bet a few people are lucky to not be murdered by your assassins now."  
A grin shows on the criminal's face. "Maybe a few others will instead of them."  
Sherlock snorts. "Oh yes? How-"  
"Gentlemen!" Irene interrupts them and points at the box. "It's going to be dark soon, I think we should put up the tents. Also we all don't want to go to sleep hungrily, do we."  
The three men stare at her and then at the box. Irene waits for another moment, but obviously none of them seems to think Irene addresses them particularly.  
"Very well", Irene says rahter amused. "Since there are no volunteers I will designate someone now. You both", she points at Mycroft and Jim, "will put up the tents. Mr Holmes and I will collect fire wood."  
Sherlock crosses his arms sulkily and snorts. Jim takes off his jacket and grins at Sherlock as he approaches the box. "What's the matter? Got any problems to do what a woman tells you?"  
"Not at all", he replies promptly.  
Jim shrugs his shoulders. "If you don't want to go with Miss Adler, I'd trade with you immediately."  
It only takes Sherlock a split second to realise what that would mean: he putting up tents with his _brother._ "Let's go", Sherlock says to Irene and goes ahead to the forrest.

Irene caught up on him quickly and for a while they both just walk beside each other silently, picking up a few twings on their way. Now and then Irene throws Sherlock some sneaky looks which Sherlock tries to ignore. Suddenly Irene starts to giggle and Sherlock looks at her confused. "What's so funny?"  
"The fresh air and being outdoors seems to do you good Mr Holmes. Your cheeks became rosy."  
Sherlock sighs. Does she really want to talk about his rosy cheeks now?  
"It looks good on you, you know", she goes on and her voice changes. It becomes softer, more seductive. "I think that shade of rose would look wonderfully on other body parts of yours."  
Sherlock bends down and picks up a twig. "What are you up to, Miss Adler?"  
She pulls out a long, flexible but solid twig out of the bundle in her arms and brushes it over her palm like a crop. "I think you know that too well."  
Sherlock stopped and now looks at the slim woman who gives him a challenging and confident look.  
"Do you really think that some fresh air will change my mind?", he asks mockingly.  
"Who knows? This situation is extraordinary. Beyond what would have happened under normal circumstances. Why not do extraordinary things on that extraordinary evening?"  
For a moment they both just stand opposite each other, a duel of looks none of them wanted to lose.  
"I don't think so", Sherlock finally says and detaches his look from Irene. For a moment, she looks after him with a grin before she follows him deeper into the forrest.  
Suddenly Sherlock stops and crouches down, putting the twigs he collected aside. Curiously Irene stops next to him and looks down. "What are you doing?"  
"Hallucinogenic mushrooms", he murmurs and picks one of them, looking at it from all sides.  
"You can recognize them so easily?", Irene asks surprised.  
"Sure. Wehn I was younger I made my own...experiences with them. Depending on the case it can be very useful to have recourse to my own experiences. I always wanted to expand the series of experiments on propositi but I didn't get around to do it yet."  
Irene watches Sherlock picking one drug mushroom after the other. "You're not going to drug us, are you?"  
Sherlock gets up to his feet and puts the mushrooms into the pocket of his coat. He looks at Irene provokingly. "Why not? You did drug me too, remember?"  
Irene purses her lips. "I had no other choice. I had to deal with a real pighead. A handsome one, but stubborn is stubborn..."  
A grin is tugging at the corner of Sherlock's lips and he picks up the bundle of twigs again as he makes his way back to the glade.  
"So?", Irene asks on their way.  
"Don't worry. I will do the experiment on John. I did promise him to never drug him again without his knowing for an experiment, but with what he did to us here he squandered that promise."  
Irene laughs and shakes her head.

When Sherlock and Irene come back to the glade they see something really strange. Mycroft Holmes sits on a knee high rock, tied up with one of the tent's cordons and gagged with a cloth while Jim Moriarty stands there, one of the plastic rods in the left and the assembly instruction in the right hand.  
When Mycroft spots his brother and the woman he jumps to his feet, almost losing balance. He is raging according to the deep shade of red on his face and he starts to call something out to them but they hardly understand him because of the gag. Mycroft's suit is dirty and rumpled, obviously Jim overpowered him and then tied him up.  
With a grin Sherlock lays down the bundle of twigs and seems to find that sight very amusing which makes his brother even more furious.  
"What are you saying, Mycroft? I can't understand you", Sherlock grins.  
"Hmpmpff!"  
Jim rolls his eyes. "Not even a gag makes him shut up! He drove me crazy with his precocious blathering!" He throws Mycroft a glare that makes the other sit down on the rock again.  
Irene shakes her head and starts to untie him. As soon as Mycroft is freed he takes a shaky breath and obviously struggles to maintain his composure. "I've never felt so humbled before", he mumbles and doesn't deign to look at Jim or his younger brother. He pats the dirt off his suit and tries to fix his hair.  
While Sherlock and Jim put up the tents silently Irene turns to Mycroft. "Since they are busy for now, how about we take care of the bonfire?" she asks with a friendly smile and puts a hand on Mycroft's shoulder.  
He looks at the hand for a moment before he raises his head. "Yes, I think that would be appropriate." He is okay with anything as long as he can stay away from these two insane people.  
"We need dry fire wood and something we can use as tinder", Mycroft begins to say and looks around.  
"Oh, you know how to make a bonfire?" she asks surprised but is very interested.  
Mycroft gives her a knowing smile. "When I was a kid I was a boyscout for one summer. I noticed quickly that this kind of activities distracted me too much from my obligations in school."  
Sherlock snorts and shakes his head, laughing. "What kept you off was your irrational fear of reptiles and insects."  
The older clears his throat quielty. "Well, that wasn't the rason I-"  
"Yes it was", Sherlock interrupts him while he screws a small metal hook into the soil. "You went into hysterics because of a frog."  
"Which you put into my tent!", Mycroft blurts out angrily while Sherlock laughs to himself. "Yes sure.."  
"It was you, I know it, I saw it in you! Already back then you were full of mischief!"  
Sherlock gets to his feet and shrugs his shoulders. "And still you didn't get used to it."  
Before Mycroft replies anything he thinks that they're not alone right now and that it's not the right pace and time to fight with his brother. He takes a deep breath and turns away to go on making that bonfire. "We have to free a spot here from twigs and leafs and delimit a circle with stones. Then we can put the fire wood into that cirlce." Irene nods and picks up the twigs she and Sherlock collected earlier.  
In the meantime Sherlock and Jim are finished with putting up the tents.  
"Are there only two of them?" Irene asks, while the fire cracks behind her.  
Jim nods. "You three can share the left tent, I'll get the right one."  
"Sure", Irene laughs. "Stop that stupid grin. What would you think of sleeping in front of the tent?"  
Sherlock grins at Irene and then looks at Jim. "What's the matter? Got any problems to do what a woman told you?"  
"Very funny", Jim hisses.  
Irene walks over to the wooden box and gets out a pan and a few of the tin cans. "Who's hungry?" she grins and puts the grating over the fire and then puts the pan on it. "In the box are paper plates and plastic cutlery."  
Mycroft looks at it in horror. "Dear me..." he groans.  
Meanwhile Jim rolls two small and not so heavy trunks to the bonfire. All four sit down, Mycroft draping his coat over the trunk before he sits down, ignoring the provoking grin of his brother. The night falls and soon they're surrounded by darkness, only the flickering light of the fire lightens the scenery.  
They eat in silence, at least three of them. Sherlock declined with thanks and thinks about the experiment he will try out on John.  
"Well", Irene finally says. "There's bad news." Six pairs of eyes turn towards her. "There are only three sleeping bags."  
Jim leans over to Sherlock. "You should get yourself a pet that can count to four."  
"I won't sleep in a sleeping bag with Mycroft", Sherlock says quickly as he pokes the embers with a limb. "One childhood trauma is more than enough", he mumbles.  
"You won't have to", Irene says and again all the others look at her. She smiles. "Since I am the only woman here I reserve the right to claim one of the sleeping bags for me alone. Since Mr Holmes", she looks at Sherlock, "already said that he won't sleep with his brother means you, Mr Moriarty, can choose now."  
Jim looks from Sherlock to Mycroft and back. "Well if that's the assortment I'll stick to Sherlock." Mycroft exhales relived. "Although I don't know what you tell against me as a sleeping bag partner", Jim grins at Irene.  
"I don't trust you", she replies with a smile before she slowly looks over to Sherlock. "And with you I don't trust myself." She grins at him and her gaze wanders slowly down his body.  
Sherlock holds her gaze easily. "I'm fine with that constellation."  
"Good", Irene nods.  
"I think I'll retire then", Mycroft says quickly before anyone could change their minds. He takes out one of the sleeping bags and disappears in one of the tents but not before he checks for any insects inside the tent. Relieved he zips up the tent behind him.  
Soon after the other three go into the the tents too. Irene decides to share a tent with Mycroft while Sherlock and Jim crawl into the other.  
For a moment they both sit in the tent, only dim light falling through the material while Jim clutches the sleeping bag that is rolled up in a ball.  
"I suggest that nothing that will happen tonight will leave this tent", Jim murmurs.  
Sherlock nods. "I agree."  
Carefully Jim rolls out the sleeping bag and falters as he looks at it a bit cluelessly. "You are taller than me, you get in first."  
Sherlock does as he's told and slips into the warm and soft sleeping bag. Jim makes a noise of disdain as he lays down beside Sherlock, their bodies pressed tightly against each other.  
"If you think about it, we both have the best constellation", Sherlock says quietly. "We both can keep each other warm with our body heat."  
"Don't say stuff like that", Jim groans and turns his back to Sherlock. "Turn around too", he snarls and tries to relax.  
"But that is not effective", Sherlock says. "Since the space in this sleeping bag is very limited we would save the most space by you lying with your back against my chest. If we both lie back to back against each other, we-"  
"Just do it!" Jim hisses.  
Sherlock shrugs and turns around. "I don't see where your fears of contacts come from."  
"If you don't shut up now you'll end up like your brother earlier, I promise you."  
"That'd be unfavourable when trying to sleep."  
"Indeed. So think carefully about it. And now don't take up so much room."  
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "I don't take up much room, I'm just taller than you."  
"No reason to show off..."  
"I don't show off. My height is a fact I didn't have the chance to contribute to it. It would be complete nonsense to show off because of it."  
"You are just as tedious like your brother", Jim mumbles.  
"That, however, is your personal opinion, but of course it's possible that you find us both similar-"  
"Shut up now!"  
"Good night."


End file.
